Worries of a First-time Werewolf

Then suddenly Graham felt teeth at the back of his neck again. Unlike when the bear had gotten him, this wasn't a brutal, crushing grip that was trying to squeeze and shake the life out of his body, but just a firm nip as Sticks bit his scruff. The wild wolf had avoided falling into the lake, and now she crouched at the edge of the ice and carefully pulled Graham out of the water. It took some effort, but she manged to drag him out of that freezing lake. Soaked and with his fur all wet, Graham gasped for breath and shivered uncontrollably as he lay against the ice. His teeth chattered. "Tt--ha--thanks, Sticks..." he wheezed.

Sticks had gotten her chest and front limbs wet from saving Graham and pulling him up onto the ice beside her. She shook herself all over, which sent droplets of water flying off her fur. "Hnm," she hummed, and then she nosed at Graham, looking concerned as he just lay there on the ice, dripping wet and shivering. "Hmmm?"

"So cold. So cold..." Graham gasped in a soft whisper. He gritted his teeth, and then with all the willpower he could muster he forced his body into motion. Rolling back onto his belly, he somehow got his limbs into position and stood up. The bear, the icy water, the winter--he could still feel pain across his body, and that made him groan through clenched teeth as he pushed himself to begin walking forward.

"Ahhh... I'm ff--fine. I'll be fine. Werewolves have... have regenerative capabilities or... or something," Graham muttered, half speaking to Sticks, half to himself. He didn't know if it was really true that werewolves had healing abilities. He could vaguely recall having heard that werewolves were difficult to kill because they could regenerate from wounds, and it also made sense that his body might be good with repairing itself since it was able to change form in such a drastic way, but at this moment he certainly did not feel invulnerable. Everything hurt, and everything was so cold.

The bank of the lake was just a short distance away, but it seemed like a marathon distance as Graham walked slowly. He could still feel the sharp lines of pain from where the bear had scratched and mauled him, though his limbs all seemed functional. The thing that slowed him down most of all was the shivering. Water dripped from his soaked fur as he trembled, and he was barely able to keep his muscles coordinated enough to keep walking forward.

Sticks stuck right beside him, keening softly and making concerned whines as Graham moved. "Hnng. Hmm?! Ruff!" She ran around him, looking at him from both sides as if trying to assess his injuries. Then she nudged him, before running in front of him and shaking herself all over to demonstrate what he needed to do.

"What? Oh. That's a good idea." Graham tried to shake his body, but he was too cold to do it properly. He was shivering uncontrollably from the cold, and even the brief halt to try and shake his fur dry made him sway on his feet. He just needed to get to land, and then he could resolve all this.

Finally, after a what felt like a small eternity, Graham got to the edge of the ice and he stepped up onto solid ground. Letting out a long, weary sigh, he dropped down onto his side. "Ohh, the wild sucks. Bears and icy water and nonsense. How I miss civilization."

"Whnnn?!" Sticks nosed at him repeatedly and she licked frantically at his face, apparently thinking that he had fallen or collapsed. "Hnm? Hnnm!"

"I'll be fine. Thanks for th--the concern, Sticks, but I'll be fine. If only I was... wasn't so cold... I just need to..." Graham took a deep breath and closed his eyes. For a moment the cold dragged him down and all he wanted to do was sleep, but then he fought away lethargy and sharpened his focus again. "Moctus!"

Magic flared out of him again, with flames starting in the fur at his chest but then spreading out to his limbs, his tail, and his head, until his whole body was encompassed in arcane fire. He was lying down on his side, and the heat from his fire started melting the snow on the ground around him. Unlike the unrestrained, furious explosion earlier, this time Graham only allowed enough magic to flow so that the fire covered him. Every magician had an inner reserve of energy that could be temporarily exhausted like how a muscle could be tired out, and at this point Graham wasn't sure how much more of his magical strength remained, but now he needed warmth more than he needed magic. Normally his inner affinity kept him shielded from the heat of his own flame magic, but now Graham carefully let down some of that protection to warm up his core.

Sticks stepped back as fire wreathed around Graham, though this time she seemed less shocked after having seen what he had done to fight off the bear. "Ruff. Wahruff." After backing away about a body length, she cocked her head and stared at Graham, then she cautiously moved closer and turned sideways so that his fiery heat warmed her up too. "Rrrr."

Graham only managed the concentration and strength to keep up the fire for about half a minute, but that was enough to mostly dry himself off and get him warmed back up to something resembling comfort. As he released his magic the flames evaporated into nothing and vanished from his body, leaving warm steam wafting from his fuzzy, but now much drier fur. "That is much better. That is much, much better now."

Sticks waited for a moment, then she scampered closer and pressed against his side to enjoy the residual, fading warmth from his magic. Graham chuckled and shook his head as he felt her fur against his--it was a reassuring sensation to feel her close presence, and even her smell was starting to be familiar and comforting. "Fire is useful, isn't it? That's why every sapient civilization has fire as one of their first, most crucial prehistoric inventions. Except for merfolk, I suppose. It... I... I'm so tired..."

"Arff, hmmn."

Graham sat up straight and glanced back over his body. There had been blood in his fur earlier, but his unintentional soak in the lake had washed it all away, and now there was hardly any sign of the injuries he'd sustained from his mauling by the bear. It seemed there was truth to the idea that werewolves could heal quickly. "Will you look at that. I don't think I'll even get a scar, despite all that terrible nonsense with the bear. I'm all healed up already, I think."

Sticks also sat up and licked at Graham's face again, then she playfully bit at his neck, which made the werewolf grin but wince.

"Ow. Ok, not fully healed." He felt over himself and found that touching some parts of his side or back still caused a dull, achy, bruised sensation, but he was still in a much better shape than he would have expected. His wristwatch was, against all the odds, still strapped tightly against his forelimb and it was even still ticking. Neither the frantic scramble of the deer hunt, nor the violence of the bear attack, or even the sudden immersion in freezing water had stopped the timepiece's mechanism--it was still functional, just like him.

Graham raised his forelimb and checked the time. "I think that has been more than enough excitement for the night. Let's get back to my camp. Oh, but what about the... food..." His voice trailed off as he turned to peer out over the frozen lake. There were clear circular markings on the ice showing the damage done by his first explosive outburst of magic--just at the edge of the shattered ice was the deer carcass, which was still smouldering and looked thoroughly burnt. The was surely still some edible meat under all that char, but Graham didn't feel like it would be worth stepping out onto the ice again, especially if the frozen surface had been weakened by the fire. "I don't think I dare to test if the ice is still fully solid. Maybe we should just leave that for the scavengers."

Sticks followed his gaze, and she made a few hesitant steps down the shore, but she didn't walk onto the ice. "Ruhff."

"Leave it. I still have food at the camp," Graham said to her. The wild wolf couldn't comprehend his words, but when Graham turned to go, she scampered over to stroll beside him.

---

Have some company made the walk back to Graham's camp seem shorter. Sticks wasn't able to engage in any conversation, but it was still reassuring to have a companion on this cold winter night in the forest. Graham led the way, and it didn't take them long to arrive. Stepping back into the familiar forest clearing, he took in the sight of the tent, backpacks, and the extinguished campfire, all beside the small rock outcropping. The camp was exactly as he had left it earlier, with no sign of any disturbance. Graham casually nodded his head towards the snow sculptures he had made earlier. "I'm back," he said.

Sticks paused to stare at the snowman and the snow wolf, then she sniffed at them curiously. She could likely smell his scent on those sculptures because Graham had used his winter coat, cap, and gloves as props.

If had only been a short walk from the lake, but Graham felt thoroughly exhausted after all of the night's excitement. He grabbed the backpack that contained all the packed meal boxes--using his jaws, he dragged the pack by its strap over towards the unlit campfire. With a lazy gesture of one paw, Graham ignited the pile of firewood again. "Moctus." Starting a normal fire took much less effort than continuously sustaining flames through magical power. As a magician, it was so natural to use his ability that he wondered how he had let himself get mauled by a bear. Flame affinity was one of the most easily offensive of all the different types of magical affinities, and casting a fireball would have been simple.

As the wood caught fire, Sticks turned her head at the sudden light, and she trotted over to stand beside Graham. He thought she might initially be suspicious or uncertain about the fire, but instead she seemed content to stand near the heat and enjoy the warmth--at least until the wolf caught the scent of Graham's packed meal containers. Her ears perked up and she sniffed at the air, then she came over and got in the way. "Hnnnhngg?" she whined.

"Hoy. Stop being a nuisance and let me heat up the food first." Graham stood up and walked sideways, using his marginally larger size to push Sticks away.

The wild wolf looked offended to be treated in this way, and more generally by the idea that Graham wasn't sharing food. "Grr. Whaoaoao?! Hrrrr." She growled and complained at him dramatically, though she quickly calmed down when she saw that he wasn't eating the food either.

"Just give it a few minutes to warm up." Graham pushed a meal tin close to the fire, then he added another one for Sticks--he wasn't sure how much food a wild wolf ate, but it was likely to be about the same amount as him, since they were almost the same size. After some consideration he put in a third meal container because they were both surely very hungry after all the exertion and activity of the past few hours. As the food all started warming up, Graham flopped down tiredly. Lying on his side made him wince as his body sent out a dull ache from his earlier injuries, but the pain didn't bother him too much and he stretched out his four limbs to get comfortable.

Unlike him, Sticks was curious and lively. She walked around the clearing and sniffed at all his belongings, even venturing inside the tent. With only her furry butt sticking out from the tent, her tail wagged as she investigated that too. Still lying beside the campfire, Graham raised his head to lazily watch her. He couldn't be bothered to get up and dissuade the wild wolf from her exploration, and she wasn't causing any harm. "Sure, go ahead. Make yourself at home here..."

Sticks came back out of the tent, now carrying Graham's scarf in her jaws. She walked over and dropped the winter accessory right between his front paws.

"Yes? That's my scarf? It's clothing. Clothing is worn by humans, which I am, when I'm not looking like this." Graham draped the scarf over his neck and loosely coiled it once around. "There. Ok. Are you happy now?"

Sticks did indeed look pleased with herself. She let her tongue dangle out and panted a few times, then she went back into the tent and carried out one of Graham's boots. Instead of giving it to him, she experimentally tried gnawing on the leather.

"Hey! Don't chew on that," Graham said.

"Ruff." Sticks defiantly did another small nibble on the boot, then she went over and dropped the boot next to Graham, before going to take the other boot to put down beside the first. Graham took his boots and put them aside--he couldn't wear them now, but he would eventually need them again.

Meanwhile, Sticks resumed her exploration of the forest clearing. Picking an appropriate tree at the edge of the clearing, she raised a hindleg and urinated on it, marking that spot with her scent and making eye contact with Graham as she did so.

Graham was unimpressed. "Yes, yes, we've already established you're the alpha wolf, the top dog. Good for you!" he declared. "I'm a werewolf, which makes me exempt from wolfpack dominance hierarchy." Turning to the campfire, he decided that the meals were sufficiently warmed up and he carefully pulled the metal tins away from the fire.

When he lifted the lids from the meal containers, the smell of steaming hot food made his mouth water. Sticks could smell it too, and she eagerly scampered back over. Graham pushed over a meal container for her, and then he began hungrily devouring his own meal. Yet as hungry as he was, Sticks still had him beaten when it came to the ravenous speed with which she scarfed down her food. Clearly she had no problem with eating a human cooked meal, despite it being totally different from the normal wild game in the forest.

In the time it took Graham to eat about two-thirds of his packed meal, Sticks had wolfed down the entirety of hers. She licked the inside of the tin completely clean, then she sat up and started giving hungry looks towards Graham's partially eaten food. "Don't even think about it," he warned her. Graham grabbed the third meal container he had warmed up and slid it over. "Here. If you're so hungry, you can eat this. Just save some for me."

"Hmmnn!" Sticks made a happy whine and she licked at Graham's face again, briefly distracting him from his food, then she began eagerly eating from the third container. Whether she had somehow comprehended what he had said or otherwise understood the concept of fairness, the wild wolf ate almost exactly half of the food and then left the rest for Graham.

Earlier it had been satisfying in a primal way to track down and successfully hunt a wild deer, yet the sensation of having a belly filled with warm, hearty food was even more pleasing. When they were both done eating, Graham took the meal containers and tried to rinse them out with some snow. It wasn't a proper cleaning, but while transformed as a werewolf he didn't have the manual dexterity to do much better.

When he was done, Graham looked up and saw Sticks had been watching him work. Feeling amused, he shrugged off the scarf that had been loosely wrapped around his neck, then he raised a fore limb and murmured a spell. "Moctus." Extending a tendril of power out towards the campfire, his stole a handful of flames that flowed back towards him and wrapped around his forelimb. "I bet you've never seen anything like this before, have you?"

Graham had thought wild beasts would fear fire, but Sticks had very quickly adapted. The wolf had shown fear and awe when Graham had first used his magic to scare off the bear, but then her attitude had quickly become hesitant caution when she saw him use magic the second time to warm himself back up, and now she seemed entirely fearless as Graham demonstrated his power for the third time. She stepped closer and peered at Graham's paw as the bright orange flames engulfed it.

"Rrrrr? Hff. Yaah." Sticks raised her own paw as if she wanted to tap at his, but she hopped back and dropped her paw when she felt the heat radiating from him. The wolf tilted her head and she kept staring at Graham, as if trying to figure out how he was doing something impossible. Again, he still didn't know if it was right to assign emotion and intelligence to a wild creature like her, but the wolf looked like she was impressed. And she certainly had good reason to be.

"You've never seen a wolf do this before," Graham said with complete confidence. He cut off the flow of his magic and let the fire around his paw fade out into tiny sparks of magic that dissipated into thin air. "You might think I'm like you, but I'm not. I'm not a wolf, I'm a werewolf. And I wasn't just a normal human--I was a magician studying at the academy nearby." He let out another sigh, and he lay down on the ground with his back to the rock outcropping. "And now... now I'm out here, exiled in the wild."

Graham stared into the campfire, watching as the orange flames flickered and danced over the logs. The wood crackled softly and he could smell the warm, smoky aroma coming from the fire. The smoke rose in a thin wispy column, vanishing into the darkness overhead. Graham's mind went calm and quiet as he simply enjoyed the moment, doing nothing but existing out in the wild.

Vaguely in his peripheral vision he saw Sticks move around the campfire towards him. Graham was zoning out and staring at the campfire--he didn't react when Sticks nudged at his body as he lay on the ground, but then she started licking insistently at his face which was harder to ignore.

"Horoo." Sticks made a demanding noise, and she bumped her nose against Graham's.

"Huh? Oh. You wolves are weird, always licking and sniffing at things..." Graham glanced at Sticks, then he finally relented and stuck out his own tongue to lick her snout. She tasted like fur, unsurprisingly. "There. Are you happy now?" Sticks panted agreeably, and Graham couldn't find it in him to push her away. "That's for saving me at the lake. Even with magic, I... I might have drowned in that ice if you hadn't pulled me out. Thanks also for the hunt--it was fun to chase down that deer, even if we didn't get to eat it."

Graham started to yawn widely, but he grunted and jerked when Sticks suddenly started sniffing about not at his face but instead at his groin. "Ooh!" The werewolf had been lying on his side, and he tried to cross his legs, not that this had much effect. He hurriedly raised his head as Sticks shamelessly started nuzzling about under his tail. "Hey. Hey, that's not appropriate. That's a private place."

At first Graham thought she was only sniffing at his butt to see what he smelt like, but then she made her intent fully clear when she began nosing and licking right at his genitals. An involuntary shudder ran down Graham's back as her tongue slid against his balls, then his flaccid shaft. For the first time since he'd transformed, Graham felt naked and exposed. His natural fur coat provided amble insulation against the cold, but it didn't provide any modesty--which hadn't even crossed his mind as a possible issue, right until this exact moment.

"Excuse me, what do you think you are doing there?" Graham demanded. He tried to use a forepaw to nudge away the curious wolf, but Sticks' only response was just to keep going.

She shook her head away from his paw, and the second time she used her own paw to push away his forelimb--then when the third time came and Graham again attempted to dissuade her attention from his groin, she bared her teeth and growled softly at him, fixing him with a fierce glare. "Grrrr..."

Graham froze at the sound, and he averted his gaze from her while his ears flattened against his head. He did not like being growled at. Physically he was slightly larger than Sticks, and with his magic he could easily win a fight, but in terms of personality the feral wolf was just more forceful and decisive about what she wanted. "Don't you growl at me! How rude. I could kick your furry wolf ass in a fight if it came to it, and you know it. What's your problem? I shared my food with you, so you should be appreciative and not... not doing whatever it is you're trying to do there," Graham tried to say, not that his hesitancy dissuaded Sticks.